The First Year
by Miss Helena Quinn
Summary: The Editor has finally been able to amass the set of wide spread journals belonging to the 1885-1886 excavation journal of Amelia Emerson (nee Peabody). The Editor apologies for her lateness and begs the read to remember that despite insisting on the most orderly excavation tactics, the Emerson heirs did not keep their heirlooms and neat.
1. Chapter 1

"What a perfectly splendid time we are going to have!"

Emerson continued to kiss me for a time. By the time he released me I felt rather woozy. I leaned against the rail, trying to catch my breath. Emerson leaded next to me, looking out over the water. After my respiration had returned to a normal rate, I turned, watching the ebony water lap against the side of the dahabeya as the moonlight cast silver shadows upon its surface. The night air was quite cool, as most nights in Egypt are. I shivered. Emerson put a well-muscled arm around me.

"Cold are you, my dear?"

"A little" I said resting my head against his shoulder. We stood for a while longer in silence, absorbed in our own thought. After a time, I found myself yawning and attempted to stifle it. I was not successful.

"Time to get to bed, Peabody" Emerson said as he pulled my arm through his and walked towards the cabins. I did not resist, for I was rather tired, and the night air held a chill that not even Emerson's arms could keep at bay.

We reached the door to my cabin first, it being nearer to the front deck than Emerson's. I stopped and turned to Emerson. He looked down at me, a burning intensity shining in his shaprine eyes. Again my insides felt that strange, uncomfortable sensation as if being liquefied, this time edged with a shiver of nervous anticipation. Emerson was quite a bit taller than my height of five feet and a bit and he had to lean down to kiss me, but kiss me he did. I stood on my tiptoes and wound my arms around his neck, for fear of losing my balance. I did not think about the compromising position this would put us in if we were to be happened upon by alter, Evelyn, or Allah forbid, Hassan. I was beginning to discover that Emerson's kisses had a deleterious effect on my brain. They seemed to rapidly deteriorate the cognitive function. How odd.

After a few minutes Emerson was forced to stop because we both had run out of breath. He released his firm grasp around my waist, and my knees buckled. He grabbed my elbow, before I toppled over and propped me gently against the door of my cabin. Emerson kissed my cheek, and with a roughish grin, ambled off towards his cabin. I watched him enter his cabin and his door shut. I closed my eyes and allowed a wealth of emotions to wash over me as I enjoying the feeling of the cold Nile breeze against my flushed face. I remained there, eyes closed until my breathing and heart rate had returned to normal. Signing, I turned and entered my cabin.


	2. Chapter 2

Hassan must have order the lamps to be lighted, a task I usually perform myself. I decided against asking Evelyn to help remove my dress, for the window of her cabin was dark, and I watched to avoid her questions for a while. I therefore had to bend my arms into painful positions worthy of a circus contortionist to undo the pea-sized buttons that ran down the back of my dress. Once I had removed the dress and my other garments, I put on my favorite nightgown. It was one of the one's I had purchased with Evelyn in during our stay in Rome. It was a pretty white garment with roses embroidered around the collar and bottom hem. I sat at my dressing table and looked into the mirror. My heavy hair was falling out of its net and many of my carefully placed combs and pins had been knocked askew. I removed the combs slowly watching as my hair tumbled loose as the candles cast dancing shadows across my face. My lips looked puffy and swollen from Emerson's long, ardent kisses. Hesitantly, I gently prodded them with the tips of my fingers. The touch sent shivers down my spine, and made little bumps rise upon my arms. I picked up my brush and applied it to my hair, Emerson weighting heavily on my thoughts. Half formed impulses and hair brained ideas born of unseemly desire raced circles in my brain. Did I dare to what I was thinking of? What would Emerson think? What would Evelyn, Walter, or any of the men say if they discovered me? I threw down the brush and ran to the door, pausing only to snatch a wrapper from the back of a plush armchair. I flew down the hall to Emerson's door and banged on it, heart pounding, before I had time to reconsider my rash… Well, one can hardly call an impulsive subconscious urge a decision.

The door opened and a hand grasped me and drew me inside. Emerson closed the door behind me. I barely had time to take in the cabin, the large bed, a chair pushed off to the side, and a desk with a mess of papers on top of it before Emerson took hold of me. With muttered "Thank god" he kissed me, with a passion even greater that what he had displayed on the deck. It matched my own to a tee and I responded in kind, clinging as close to him as I could. He was no longer wearing a shirt. I had observed it through over the back of the displaced chair. His skin was warm to the touch and heavily muscled. I could feel the jagged, raised line of a scar running down his side.

Breaking our kiss, but not putting any more space between us, Emerson rasped "Are you sure this is what you want my dearest, my darling Peabody?"

I nodded vigorously, too out of breath to speak, and Emerson scooped me up and deposited me gently upon the bed. He turned to fetch the lamp from the desk. I braced myself on my elbows and watched, mesmerized by the ripple of muscles across his back and shoulders. He came back and set the lantern on a side table. He sat down on the bed next to me and bent his head as if to kiss me again. As willing as I was to pursue this course of action, my internal organs rippled uneasily. I put my hand on his shoulder and sat up.

"Emerson. I must tell you, that is, I do not… I mean-" I stumbled over the sentence, my eyes fixed on my dressing gown covered knees, and a hot flush burning my cheeks.

"Hush, Peabody." Emerson said, taking me into his arms. "It's quite alright if you are unaware…with…of course you are the most lovely… that is to say…" I disentangled myself from his grasp, and placed my hand over his lips. In his turn, Emerson reached out with a tentative hand and caressed the side of my face. He traced the outline of my lips with a touch softer and gentler than a feather. Emerson's hand traced over my eyelid, down across my nose and rested on my neck. I let out a soft gasp as Emerson's hand traveled lower. Emerson covered my mouth with his and laid me back onto the pillows.

A quite a while Emerson and I lay flat on our backs side by side, gasping for breath. As we attempted to regain some of the vital air I was cognizant of three things. The first was glowing warmth that consumed my entire body, from the tips of my toes to crown of my head. The second was a sense of rapidly growing lethargy, and the last was a slight atmosphere of discomfort. For once my quick brain and quicker tongue failed me. I turned my head a fraction of an inch to look up at Emerson, desperate for some indication of his mental musings. Had he not enjoyed himself as much as I had? My heart felt as if it was twisted in a vice. I was in a quandary what to do, until Emerson cleared his throat.

"Amelia?"

"Yes, Emerson."

"That was… That was…"

I waited with bated breath as Emerson struggled with to express his sentiments.

"Absolutely incredible."

All at once my heart felt lighter than air. I was giddy and my spirit soared.

"And you?" Emerson asked, his voice slightly higher than its normal tenor. I consider for a moment trying to find a word that would adequately express all the sensations flooding through my being. Emerson misinterpreted my silence. "I apologize Peabody, I did not mean to-" He mumbled as he crossed his arms over his muscular chest and went ridged.

I lay motionless for a heartbeat, unsure of what to do. I slid closer to Emerson and laid my head on his shoulder. I wound my arms around his forearm. I felt him relax at my touch. His skin, an organ I knew very well by now, was warm and damp.

"It was perfectly splendid. Goodnight, my darling Emerson."

"Sleep well, my dearest Peabody." Emerson said, pressing his lips against the top of my head.

Lulled by Emerson's deep breathing, I sank into the arms of Morpheus.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke the next morning, slowly and luxuriously, in Emerson's arms. Lazily, I thought about the events of last night as I contemplated Emerson's arm, the only part of him I could see. The tanned member was well muscled and took on a bronze glow in the soft morning sun which cast warm pools of sun on my skin.

The sun.

With a gasp, I sat bolt upright. The blankets fell away as I turned to shake Emerson's shoulder.

"Emerson. Emerson! Wake up"

The sun made his sable locks shine and his dark lashes lay against the tan skin of his face. His saphirine eyes opened into slits and a smile spread across his handsome face and he pulled me down on top of him.

"No, Emerson! Emerson, stop that at once. Emerson… Oh Emerson…"

His actions quite distracted me from my original intent, until I turned my head and was temporarily blinded by the sun.

"Emerson… No, Emerson- The Sun, Emerson, the Sun!"

Emerson stopped (regrettably) what he was doing and looked out the window.

"Hell and damnation!" he roared leaping up. I followed him. Emerson reached my nightdress before I did. He handed it to me, I began pulling it on as Emerson yanked on a pair of trouser and a work shirt. We spoke at the same time

"Damn, Damn, DAMN. How could I have been so careless?"

"You are not the only one at fault. I need to get back to my cabin before anyone-."

"Quite. I am a damn fool, Peabody, not to have anticipated this."

"Don't be ridiculous, the blame is half mine, Emerson." I said struggling with my garment. In my haste I had caught the clasp of my nightdress in my hair. Emerson's hands removed my own and gently began untangling it. When it came free, he took hold of my chin and turned my face up to kiss me.

After all too short a minute, Emerson pulled back.

"Peabody" he said in a hoarse voice "I think we'd better get to breakfast before Walter or Evelyn…"

"Decide to come looking for us? Quite" I said, stepping back hastily, flattening my hair.

Emerson crossed to the door and pulled it open, carefully looking left and right. "All clear Peabody", he called in what I assume was his idea of a whisper.

We ran across the hall to my door and, pulling it open, I ran inside. Emerson pulled it shut behind me.

I ran to my bureau and pulled out the first dress I laid my hands on. It was a lovely green and white garment that Evelyn had insisted on me purchasing with a square neck line a skirt that draped gracefully to the floor.

I yanked off my nightdress, pulled on my combinations, and slid the dress on. I brushed out my tangled hair, splashed water on my face and ran out to join Emerson. He offered me his arm and I took it.

When we reached the upper deck we discovered Walter and Evelyn sitting close together at the table, laughing. I glanced at Emerson. He looked at me. We both looked at Walter and Evelyn. Emerson cleared his throat.

Evelyn looked up, her fair hair catching the sun's rays, a bright smile lingering on her face. Her expression did change except for a slight elevation of her eyebrows.

"Good morning Amelia, dear Radcliff. Michael said breakfast will be ready in a minute. Tea?"

Emerson pulled out a chair for me and I sat, doing my best to avoid Evelyn's gaze. I turned to Walter. His mouth hung open and shock stamped his expression. For the second time this morning, Emerson, who had settled himself in a chair next to me, and I spoke at the same time.

"What the devil are you gaping at Walter?"

"Do close your mouth, Walter. You look most ridiculous."

Walter did not move, until a gentle nudge from Evelyn pulled him back to the present.

Evelyn handed Emerson and I our cups of tea.

"Amelia, did you and Radcliff reach an agreement last night?" She asked politely.

Emerson choked on his tea. I kicked him under the table.

"Yes, actually you could say we did, in a matter of speaking. Er… Emerson?"

Emerson opened his mouth looking from Evelyn to Walter to me. I nodded encouragingly. Emerson cleared his throat.

"I… we…" He trailed off staring helplessly at me. I turned to Evelyn, only to find myself at a similar loss for words. She smile and patted Emerson's hand.

"Congratulations Radcliff." She stood and embraced me. "Think of it Amelia. We won't have to part company at all." I returned her sunny smile in equal measure.

"Sisters at last." I agreed "A better alternative to winding wool and growing old, I think, my dear Evelyn."


	4. Chapter 4

After a lovely, if somewhat quiet breakfast, we separated to pursue our individual activities. Walter had retreated to the drawing room, which had been taken over with various books, paperwork, and artifacts, to finish his summary of the season's activities. Evelyn and I were sitting in on the top deck: I watching the panoramic scene that the Nile created as we drifted lazily by, and Evelyn putting the finishing touches on her copy of the carvings from El Armana. Emerson had been lecturing (I had giving up trying to argue after he interrupted me for the fifth time) us on the complexities of slave trade in 16th dynasty Egypt and had departed to the drawing room in order to find an illustration that proved his point. I sighed. Simultaneously, a crack spit the peaceful air. The dahabeya tilted and grounded to stop.

"Oh dear," Evelyn said, "I have smeared my painting again."

Hitting sand bars is an inescapable and inevitable part of Nile life. As any experienced traveler soon learned, nothing could be done to prevent the disaster or speed the process of getting off of one. We learned quickly to make do with the inconveniences.

Emerson strode out of the cabin below us.

"Hullo there, Abu" he said addressing one of the men "What has happened?"

"We have hit another sandbar, Emerson" I called. "Do be patient. The men will get us out soon enough."

"And make the poor devils do all the work? I think not, Peabody." Emerson demanded. He marched over to the side rail and began unbuttoning his working shirt.

"Really, Emerson. What in heaven's name are you doing?" I called, watching as he continued to remove his clothing, bearing to my (and, I hardly need add, everyone else's eyes) the impressive muscular frame of his upper body.

"Just what I said, Peabody" He bellowed back. "Giving the poor devils a hand!"

I must pause here to explain to you, dear reader. The normal course of action after hitting a sandbar is for the crew to jump down with ropes and pull the dahabeya until it comes free. Evelyn and I had been present for numerous of these occasion; and while neither of us enjoyed watching the exertions of the poor ragged crew, we understood that we more likely to hinder their efforts than help them.

"Do be careful, Radcliff." Call Evelyn, not taking her eyes from her painting. I subsided knowing logical reasoning, careful persuasion, and passionate argument were all futile. I did vow to keep a close eye on him, however, in the event that he decided to do something even more foolhardy. He had jumped over the side of the boat, and I could only see the top of his hatless head, until he strode away from the side of the boat with a little less than his customary cat like grace, due to the ankle deep water he was forced to slosh through.

His hair gleamed with titian highlights. His muscles rippled and gleamed in the bright noonday sun. I became aware of a penetrating thrill of excitement emanating from what seemed to be the recesses of my abdomen. I continued to watch, memorized as Emerson worked as one with the crew, pulling and heaving, his chest straining. The sun seemed too hot and I was conscious of the fabric of my frock clinging to my skin. Suddenly the boat jerked free. The men cheered and Emerson turned to face me. He winked and I could feel the color rising in my cheeks. To be caught staring, like a silly, love struck school girl…! I shook my head primly and turned to speak with Evelyn.

We dined late then was our habit that evening, as another run in with a sand bar and a group of unruly Americans had caused the soup Cook was making to jump from the stove to the floor, much to the chagrin of the hungry sentry who was supposed to be keeping a look out for the tell tail light aqua water (not to mention the unruly Americans). I however had no objections to dinning under the heavens, for the moon was slim but the stars were bright, and the candlelight caught my companions' faces in a most charming manner.

We talked late into the night. Conversation was not the idle chatter that accompanies a typical English dinner. Walter and Emerson regaled Evelyn and I with stories of their first season working together in Egypt.

"I had just finished at Cambridge, when Radcliffe came back and dragged me off to Egypt." Walter said with a smile, nodding at Emerson. Emerson scoffed.

"It was for your own good, Walter. You were dying to come out. If it weren't for your damned, er excuse me, Evelyn, English morals, you would have dropped out and joined me the season before."

"Where did you excavate that year, Emerson?" I asked.

"Deir el-Bahari." Emerson grinned fondly at the memory.

"The one Queen Hatshepsut added on to in the eighteenth dynasty? How fascinating!" I exclaimed, nearly knocking over my wineglass. Walter caught it.

"An intriguing woman." Add Walter cheerfully.

"Professor Breasted wrote in his latest journal that she ought to be known as 'the first great woman in history of whom we are informed.' I quite agree." I said, as Walter refilled my wine glass. "If all of her male counterparts governed as effectively as she, the Pharaohnic system would have lasted longer." Evelyn laughed.

"I think you would have made an excellent Pharaoh, Amelia." She said, patting my hand.

"Only if she was content to marry one of her brothers." Walter said merrily.

"Oh, I think I am quite content with my current Fiancée" I glanced at Emerson, who was watching me heatedly over his wineglass. As Walter and Evelyn laughed, I felt a warm caress, just below my knee.


End file.
